Once Again
by EKBlack
Summary: Predictably, another reaction by another obsessive fangirl to the events of OotP. A day in the life of Sirius Black at 12 Grimmauld Place, shortly after his arrival there. Reminiscence and angst, mild Sirius/Remus.
1. Once Again

**Once Again  
**By E.K. Black  
  
Sirius Black stared at the ceiling, his hair lying around him in a dark pool. The room was dim and musty. Buckbeak lay on a pile of moth-eaten rugs, scattered vaguely on the floor, and slept. Sirius groaned as he pushed himself up on his elbows, which grated on the dusty floor, even through his robes. Twelve Grimmauld Place was utterly silent, so soundless that he thought he could hear the dust settle as he rose to his feet. He almost feared to go downstairs.   
Not so long ago, he would have never dared to walk as tall as he did now. Not so long ago, he _had_ nowhere to walk to. They kept the cells small at Azkaban.   
He still remembered the first year there, the horrible fury that would come over him as he threw himself against the stony walls and screamed until his voice died. He had torn his fingertips ragged, wept so much that his eyes were swollen for days. He had done so much in that lonely little room, thought too long and too hard. He remembered the barren weeks, months, years as they swung by outside his cell window--more of a hole, really, the size of a small bowl through which he couldn't even stick his arm because of the thick bars across it. He could peer through it, though, at the shift of the stars, the waxing of the moon--with a start, he came to himself as he stumbled down a stair and caught at the railing, narrowly avoiding squashing a spider. He sighed at it as it skittered away. "Losing your mind _after_ getting out, eh?" He muttered to himself as he stumped down the remainder of the staircase, patting himself to free as much of the grime of the attic floor as he could.   
In the foyer, Sirius paused for a moment, glaring at his mother's portrait. The curtains, thankfully, were drawn. He was sure that _there_ was one who had never thought or cared about that little stone room with the window-hole. A great surge of anger built in him, and he growled under his breath at her hidden face, fluently. He had, after all, had plenty of time in his room to practice shouting curses at everyone and everything, and she was not the least of his victims. He longed, so much, to rip that enchanted canvas to bits, to blast it to oblivion. As he thought, he put his hand in the pocket of his robes, ready to give the old crone the coup de grace, and started withdrawing his wand.   
A hand appeared on his shoulder. Sirius bellowed. The hand was snatched away as its owner jumped. Trembling with tension, Sirius turned his wand on the would-be attacker, and gasped. "Moony?!"  
Lupin gave a tired little smile as he recovered from his startlement. "Padfoot."   
There was a silence. They looked at each other as though meeting anew, though they'd seen snatches of each other over the last two years.  
He looks so old, thought Sirius. He's gone perfectly gray. And his face...and his voice...  
He looks so wild, thought Remus. His eyes are a little mad. But...still the same...  
Sirius wavered wildly between hugging Remus and running away. He wanted nothing to do with anyone, anyone who might be hurt. _James_! He felt his eyes prickle. Then, Remus put out a tentative hand. "How are you, Sirius?" After a moment, Sirius took it silently and clutched it for dear life as he pushed the would-be tears back to where they came from.   
  
Sirius made some tea, as Kreacher was once again nowhere to be found. "Sorry," he muttered when he entered the room and handed Remus the tea, spilling a bit into the saucer, "the house-elf is being a delinquent again. It's kind of old, I found it in the back of an empty cabinet in the kitchen, so don't drink it if it tastes at all--"  
"Sirius," interrupted Remus, face drawn, "please sit, it's fine." Feeling dislocated, Sirius did so. The chair let off a great cloud of dust as he dropped into it. A couple of dead pixies fell from under the seat. He groaned and pushed at the creatures with his toe and set down the teacup and saucer on the nearest endtable, an ornate affair with medieval gargoyles and a couple of dragons, which promptly collapsed as though it were made of rotten toothpicks. With a forlorn, reproving little tinkle, the saucer smashed on the floor as the cup made a perfect arc and landed in Sirius's lap. He jumped up with a snarl of disgust and tried to brush the tea off and the teacup, embossed with a silver Gothic B, broke off its handle as it rolled to join the saucer.   
Still twitching with annoyance, Sirius groped for his wand. _A_ seco _should clean it off_.  
Then he heard a strange noise from the divan; it was horribly similar to Peeves the Poltergeist's wheezing that one time when James and he had left the ghost a batch of bewitched Chocolate Frogs designed to give the eater a horrible attack of the cold. Peeves had sneezed and coughed for a week and two days before recovering.   
And then he realized what was happening.   
Remus Lupin was laughing hysterically, tea ignored in its black-enameled porcelain cup. When he saw Sirius staring, he completely broke down and fell flat on his back on the old divan, heedless of the accumulated grime on its faded chintz cover. At one point he tried to gasp for some air, to speak, but he only got as far as "Sorry Si--" before he collapsed into giggles again.   
Sirius looked on, bemused. He could not recall the last time he'd seen Moony laughing so hard. Moony was always the calm one, collected and quiet; a Prefect, diligent and careful, well-organized...not uproarious. Not the type to skive classes to go romp on the grounds or go flying or to transform and roll about in the long wet grass of an autumn morning...  
Remus had stopped laughing and was looking at him. "Padfoot?" With that, Sirius gave way. He couldn't tell if he was echoing Moony's laughter or letting his tears run; he sobbed and roared and dropped to his knees, making odd sounds. He sounded even more like Peeves on _gripum_ Frogs and nearly choked on the thought, burying his face in both hands and shaking with mirth while he wet the floor with his weeping.   
It was a long time before he collected himself. Lupin had a careful arm around his shoulders and was attempting to make him sit in his chair. "Padfoot, Padfoot, Paddy, it's all right, all right." Remus's arm tightened as Sirius flinched under his mane of black hair. "Sirius?"  
"Thanks," whispered Sirius, his breath hardly moving the heavy strands of his overgrown fringe, "thanks, Moony." He wanted badly to pull away from Moony's arm, away from everyone, to lie alone on the attic floor again. This was frightening, shameful. He wiped at his face roughly with a sleeve. Why hadn't the Dementors just done away with him? The Kiss would be better than this, than remembering everything, every little insignificant thing; James grinning wildly as he beckoned Sirius under the Invisibility Cloak, James's soft deep breathing behind the drawn curtains of the bed to his left, James smiling, hair even more tousled than usual, as he held the fluttering Golden Snitch over his head...  
Remus was shaking him, gently. "Paddy. Paddy."   
He felt the old futile fury well up in his chest, filling his body, sweeping over him like flames. Why, why, why had Moony lived? Why wasn't it James who was kneeling here beside him? Why couldn't it have been Moony who'd gone, or Wormtail, or any of them? Lily Evans's cool white face floated before him, flashed past, a blur. _Who cared about any of them_?! Now he saw Harry, the scar, the green eyes, James's brows, his nose, his mouth and chin. The venom of his anger drained and there was only dry blackness, a hole of emptiness. _Harry_. Sirius glanced sideways, feeling ancient, worn, like a seaside pebble, and saw Remus's crinkled brow, much more crinkled than it should have been.   
"Moony, sorry." He tried, weakly, to loosen Remus's grip. The vision of Harry merged with that of James, the two faces smiling at him as one. The prickle behind his eyes condensed and Remus became a blurred gray patch. Enough. Sirius jerked himself free of Lupin's arm and, rubbing his face with a hand, half-ran and half-lurched to his room.  
  
When Sirius opened his eyes, it was much later than it had been when he'd closed them. The rumpled pillowcase was still clammy and his face ached. Twelve Grimmauld Place was, once again, absolutely still. Maybe Moony had left. Maybe he'd gotten some kind of mission from Dumbledore, or guard duty, or had just left because there was nothing stopping him, was there? No Aurors trailing him, nobody eager to turn him in to those fools at the Ministry, no reason for him to lie at home staring at the ceiling and thinking stupid thoughts.   
He shook his head slowly and chuckled. _Stupid thoughts, that's it_. He groaned and turned over. Well, if he was alone, there was no reason why he couldn't just nap some more. He closed his eyes and flung out an arm, and encountered a rather solid pillow. With a dreadful sink in his gut, Sirius reopened one eye and growled softly. Remus's head was barely on the edge of the great bed, his shoulders hunched and his hands clenched under his chin. He appeared quite asleep.  
"Well, what the hell are you doing here?" Sirius didn't expect any answer, and got none. To his vague surprise, he felt no anger, not even righteous indignation; after all, this was his own room and he'd locked the door. Remus must've used _alohomora_ to get in. _Well then_. He contemplated Moony asleep: much younger-looking, especially as the gray head was made almost its original color thanks to the sun that was sliding low, full and red, to the west. Most of the lines on the face had faded with the growing dusk. Sirius's breastbone gave a sharp twinge. Remus, so calm, dispassionate, so damn steady, was mortal after all. True, those weeks when large dark smudges would appear under Moony's eyes and when he'd hide himself as he suffered were probably horrible, but good old Moony always looked as sharp and serene as ever when he returned to class. Always. Sirius sighed.   
The sun had set already and he could hardly see Remus's face. Perhaps he should get Moony awake and apologize properly, get the poor man some dinner. What a worthless host he was. With that thought, Sirius gave Remus a nudge on the shoulder. "Moony." Remus didn't move, probably so exhausted that he'd not wake up even if the sky fell on him. That had happened at a very respectable rate when they were boys; Remus, drawing out an Astronomy diagram, yawning and simply closing his eyes in the Common Room and simply dropping off into a nap; Remus dozing off in the shade of a beech as James and he made fun of first years; Remus drifting off as the Marauders discussed (or rather, James and he discussed) their next plot...  
  
He remembered dimly one afternoon near the end of term, when sweet smells and the chirping of insects surrounded them, when the Marauders sprawled together under their favorite beech near the Lake and did nothing in a happy lull. James was lying on his side, retelling the last Quidditch match eagerly to Peter, savoring each little detail while he did so. Peter was goggling in awed devotion at James as he spoke; Sirius was bored and warm and wanted very much to turn into Padfoot and play with James to distract him from the stupid Quidditch match, and Remus was, predictably, dozing off with a large book on his face to shield him from the June sun.  
"Prongs," said Sirius in his laziest voice, "we've all heard how you won the game at least as many times as you got perfect papers on Transfiguration, so how 'bout giving it a rest?" James gave him a look of mock indignance. "Paddy-kins is just jealous," he countered, putting special emphasis on the "-kins". "Paddy-kins got chewed out last quiz for barely scraping by, dinna he? Aww, poor widdle Paddy--"  
"James." Remus was giving them a highly exasperated look. "If you two want to tussle, take it somewhere else. Some of us are a little tired."  
Sirius and James gave each other looks of evil delight. "Well, well," said Sirius, grinning, "so what was Mr. Prefect up to then?" He pretended to look up at the moon, forced to put a hand over his eyes by the sunlight. "Could it've been..." Sirius lowered his voice confidentially as James chuckled, "a Certain Someone? Dare I mention the name?"  
Remus said nothing, but he looked paler.   
"So I guess aright?" Sirius wriggled his eyebrows. "What d'you think, James, has our own dear Moony got himself a young lady?"   
Remus was still quiet. The instant lasted too long, the tiny interval during which Moony was to burst into laughter or retort or supply some name was over. The blood had drained from his face at the same time as the laughs died away. "It is," said Remus as he stood and looked at them, "absolutely none of any of your business. At all." He walked off, not even having raised his voice.   
Sirius's brain finally digested Moony's words just as the top of Remus's head could be seen vanishing as he went down the far side of a small hill. "Moony! You--you forgot your book!"   
There was no answer.   
"Well," James muttered as he rose from the grass, brushing himself off with care, "I wonder what's wrong with him." Sirius tried to keep a blasé expression as he watched Moony disappear among the throngs of students as he neared the School itself. Both Prongs and himself had seen why Moony hadn't slept well last night. But why did Remus take such offense?  
  
It had been late, and the Fat Lady had been rather less than thrilled to have had to open up for the two Marauders, gleeful under their Invisibility Cloak and panting with the run they'd given Mrs. Norris up to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius had gotten in first; he panicked at a lighted candle on of the far tables, thinking that, somehow, someone--McGonagall, Filch--had managed to get in. He was on the verge of shoving James back through the portrait hole when he heard a familiar voice. It was Remus. "...hold on," he was saying to someone else, who was behind him and therefore in the shadows of the candlelight, but apparently the other was paying him no attention, because a hand seized his cheek and, pulling Remus easily in, whoever sat in the shadows gave him a kiss.   
James, who'd just finished pulling himself through the door, gaped. Sirius thought that his own eyes would simply pop from his skull if he stared any harder. Granted, it was a quick enough thing, but Remus looked somewhere between mortified and pleased when he was released and saw them. He had opened his mouth to say something, but before he could do so, Sirius and James had dashed up the stairs at top speed. When Remus opened the door of the dormitory, both Sirius's and James's bedcurtains were drawn and there was no sound except Longbottom's light snoring.   
  
"Yeah, maybe he was snogging Lily or something," James said darkly at lunch. Remus was absent; they'd not seen him since that morning. "That's why he was so touchy."   
"Nah," said Sirius, shaking his head. "Moony wouldn't. _Lily_ wouldn't." He half-grinned at James's skeptical face. "Come off it, Potter, you know she likes you."  
"Well then, why--?"  
"Don't look at me." Sirius shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth. But James still looked askance at him. "Look, whyn't you just go up and ask him then?"   
James frowned. Peter looked concerned, but was too busy downing seconds of custard to talk. "Maybe it's that time of the month?"  
"What, he just came back this week!" Sirius felt quite defensive. "Y'know, he's always been kinda quiet about this kind of stuff anyhow--"  
"--but--"  
"Would you mind moving a bit, Wormtail?" Sirius and James flushed guiltily. Remus had seemingly Apparated from nowhere and was now bending a rather stiff smile on Peter. He seated himself and reached for a piece of bread without further comment, and assiduously avoided looking at either James or Sirius, who were still both quite red in the face. All three of them watched Remus finish his meal and, with a quiet "see you", walk off again.   
  
After double Charms, Sirius trudged along with James and Peter to dinner, still mumbling about the cause of Moony's outburst. Remus walked very straight and quick ahead of them, barely within earshot among the groups of chattering students. "Maybe you should talk to him," suggested Peter timidly, the first he'd offered on the topic.   
"Mm." James had just caught sight of a dark-red head of curly hair. "Um, hold on for a bit, would you?" With that, he strode purposefully over to Lily Evans, ruffling his own hair for effect as he went. Sirius regarded him with mild disgust and, when he briefly saw Lily's eyes, scowled at her. She returned it with a triumphant gleam in her eyes as she and James strolled away. As much as Prongs liked her, he'd always thought her too much like McGonagall: uptight and pushy. Whatever did Prongs see in her? Maybe it was opposites attracting or something. Prongs would have a time with her, to be sure--"Oof!"  
"Oh, sorr--" the apologetic eyes meeting his were Remus's. He stopped short in the corridor, staring at Sirius, as though disbelieving his own bad luck. "Look, Moony, I've got to--"  
"Fine," said Remus, his lips thinned. "Astronomy tower. After dinner."  
"Okay, um, d'you want Pro--"  
"By yourself." Remus turned his back and said something indistinctly. Before Sirius could pursue him, he'd slipped away in the crowd.  
  
Moony was quite late. He arrived just as the sun was brushing the distant treetops and the gibbous moon faded into view. Sirius turned and mumbled, "Good evening."  
"Hi." Remus fiddled with a corner of his robes, uncharacteristically. The Prefect pin caught a bit of the fading golden sunlight as he approached Sirius where he leaned on the castle wall.   
"Er, so, what was it that you wanted to say?" Sirius got the distinct impression that Remus was more anxious, if possible, than he was. It had been no easy task to persuade Prongs that Moony only wanted to talk to himself; _sometimes he really can be a git_, Sirius chuckled fondly to himself, and realized hastily that Remus had already started to speak.   
"...so I just really wanted to show you...um...to make you...um..." Remus had turned his face away, but even his neck was turning crimson. "I...uh..." At this point, he took a deep breath and faced Sirius, as if preparing himself for a great ordeal. "I'mreallyjealousofyouandProngssoIjustwantedto--"  
Sirius had been reminiscing of the last Gryffindor Quidditch win, of which Prongs had been so proud, and how happy James had been as he told them, how wide his grin and how genuine his laughter, and so was almost surprised into falling over when Remus grabbed his arm. "Are you _listening_?!"  
"Um, yeah, 'course!" But Remus was already stalking down the stairs of the tower, and ignored Sirius. "Wait! Moony!"  
  
Sirius blinked. His room was completely dark, and he was stretched out on his back on the bed again. _A dream_? "Hey Sirius," said someone softly, "are you hungry?"  
"Wha--Moony?" He pushed himself up. "Are you still here?"  
"Obviously so." Remus snorted, and pushed something warm at him. "Dinner. It's going cold." Sirius reached and took hold of the very large bowl and a spoon. "Was I asleep?" He asked, feeling horrified; was he turning into Remus now? Was he aging? Would he now spend three-quarters of every day like this, asleep and thinking about nothing?  
"Yep." Remus's voice moved up and over, and a squeal in the old bed told Sirius that Moony was now sitting at his feet. "Feeling better?"  
"I'm--was--fine." Sirius grasped his wand and muttered, "_Lumos_". The pale bluish light caught him in the eyes and he flinched. Remus blinked. They smiled gingerly at each other. "I guess you're all right then," said Remus, making as if he would get up.   
"Hey Moony," Sirius put his bowl on the night table. "I'd a dream, you know?"  
"Oh?" It might have been a trick of the magical light, but Remus looked wary. "What about?"  
"Us. Prongs and Wormtail and us," added Sirius quickly, when Remus's face tightened. "At school."  
"Mm." Remus made no reply for a while. Then, "So?"  
"You remember that time when you were mad at us? At Prongs and me?" Remus sighed. "Do you?"  
"Which time?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do." Remus pondered something for a moment, looking into one of the cobwebbed corners of the room. "You never did hear what it was that I was going to say, did you?"  
"I--no." For some reason, Sirius thought that Remus had smiled. "No, I didn't."  
Remus snorted again, but he sounded somewhat happier. "I don't suppose you'd want to know?" He twitched a fold of his robes carelessly in the half-light of Sirius's wand. Then he looked up abruptly, tried to chuckle, and failed miserably. "Well. I'd better tell you then, lest you spend the rest of your life staring like that." Sirius's mouth twitched, but he obliged and moved his eyes to a point in the middle distance, over Remus's left shoulder. "Go ahead," he told Moony. "I'm listening this time."   
Remus murmured something under his breath and made a small amused sound. "Well, see, I was...I was...er...it's really rather stupid, Padfoot, really childish--"  
"--I'm listening." Sirius concentrated on the largish crack behind Remus. "I solemnly swear that I won't tell anyone. Go on, Moony."  
"To tell you the truth, Sirius, I..." Remus crumpled a fistful of his robes and sighed. "I was jealous of James." He went on hurriedly, before Sirius could react. "Oh, I liked him well enough most of the time--about as good a friend as any could be--but," he shrugged, still balling the cloth of his robes in his hands nervously, "you two were always above Peter and me. You two...you two were the real Marauders. We just followed." He stopped for a breath, and Sirius, stunned, lost his opportunity to interject. "You two led, we followed. You two went places, did things that you didn't tell us about, you planned things, you..." Remus put his fingertips to his temple.   
Sirius did not and could not speak. Apparently these things had been carried along, solid and ugly and painful, for years in Moony, and had just spewed out. He could not bring himself to believe that there had ever been anything less than perfect understanding between him and Moony and Prongs--Wormtail, he'd not been a part of them from the start, a follower, that was Peter, not Remus! The prickling started again in his eyes, and he clamped his teeth down hard on the inside of his mouth to stop it. He was no longer that whimpering wreck who flailed about the stone room, clawing at the walls, throwing himself against the cold sharp stone until he bled and collapsed of exhaustion, lying feverishly, mumbling like a madman. He had to stop acting like one. His canines drew blood from his mouth, and he swallowed it without thinking.  
Sirius shut his eyes. He drew a slow rasping breath and was about to thank Remus when arms were thrown about his ribs. He did not bother to open his eyes, did not bother even to realize what he was doing; he simply returned the embrace, a comfort, a support in the partly illuminated darkness. At some point, Remus heaved a heavy sigh and put his head on Sirius's shoulder, trustingly, and fell asleep. Sirius could not help a grin at the old narcolepsy. He felt alert and even jumpy, himself, from the long nap. Remus slurred something gently in his sleep and moved closer. "Uh," said Sirius, now under most of Remus's weight, which was not much and only uncomfortable because of the sharpness of the bones which pressed through the layers of robes. "Skinny little runt," Sirius smiled to himself, and tried to shift himself out from under Remus, with little success. Somehow Remus had gotten hold of his hair with one hand while keeping the other firmly around his waist. _All right_, he thought at Remus, _get up_.   
The hand in Sirius's hair had opened and now lay flat against his shoulder.   
"Moony. Wake up." He felt light fingers traveling up his nape. "Remus!"  
The other hand joined the first behind Sirius's neck, and Remus's eyes were suddenly very close. He smiled, not entirely without malice. "But Paddy," he murmured, and gave Sirius an encouraging nudge so that he fell backward, mouth agape, paralyzed with astonishment. "I was never asleep, you silly git."   
And he forestalled any further comment from Sirius rather effectively with his mouth.   
"--M-Moony?" Sirius stammered as Remus drew away for air, still so shocked that he didn't try to extricate himself. Remus's face was presently buried in his hair, and one hand seemed to be on an alarmingly definite southward journey down his spine. "Wait, hold on, wha--?"  
"Merlin's beard, Paddy," said Remus as he pulled his eyes up to Sirius's. "You can be so dense." He twitched fingers against Sirius's ribs, tickling. "I'm jealous of Prongs. At least you'd no problems talking around him."   
Sirius gawked, speechless, as Remus rubbed against his sternum and traced the hollow between his collarbones with a finger. "Moony," he managed to say, when Remus's migrating hand showed dangerous signs of plucking at his robes, "I-I don't understand you." The hand paused in its movements, and somewhere a little bit of Sirius felt distantly disappointed. "Explain yourself," he told Remus's hidden face, his voice gaining steadiness as he went. But his authority faded when he saw Moony's eyes. They watched him gently, without blame, soft and strange like the light that still shone from his wand. They waited.  
"You. You were jealous? of Prongs? I--he--"  
Remus's face was perfectly flat. A sudden convulsion between his brows flickered in the half-light, and he wrenched away from Sirius. His words came very fast, just as they had on the Astronomy tower almost twenty years past. "Don't pretend, Sirius. I saw you two. I saw you, how you adored him. How you would have killed yourself a thousand times over rather than have seen him even the least bit pained." His face was half in the dark, and his mouth moved in a bluish blur. "I was so jealous that I got Dorcas to kiss me." He made a snorting noise under his breath. "Pretty moronic, huh?" Sirius was quiet. "Obviously it didn't work." Remus shrugged at the bed, at the room, looking distractedly at his lap. "I was a stupid one, huh?"  
Sirius drew breath. "You..." He'd been right, then. Moony was so delicate inside, so fragile; he'd never show how much he was hurt if he could help it. "I mean, I never thought that you felt...like this. I would've been nicer, I really would, Moony."  
"I know." Remus slid off the bed. "It's pretty childish of me to bring it up, isn't it?" He glanced quickly at Sirius and looked away again. "After all we've been through and all."  
Sirius's throat tingled. He could drag Moony back, tell him exactly what _he_ had gone through, so alone in that little room with a tiny circle of stars on his face. Oh, how much there was to say. He could make Moony's eyes prickle like his were, could make him beg for mercy as he despaired. _He could ask why Prongs had been taken_ _instead of any of the others. _A cool wet spasm of resentment crept into his mouth, ready to spring. "You--"  
Remus dropped his head, submitting, and lifted his face. It was wet and cool against Sirius's cheek. "Padfoot. Forget I said that." He turned and gave Sirius a very small kiss on the cheek. "My fault. I'm sorry." He sighed when Sirius reciprocated. "Moony." He was lightheaded with relief. The snake of rage had crept back to its lair and his hands hardly shook as he put them, without haste, around Moony's shoulders. "It's all over. Don't let's worry about it anymore."  
  
End.  
_In Memoriam, June 2003.  
  
_


	2. Extras, Number One

**Once Again**  
EXTRAS  
  
By E.K. Black  
  
NOTE: This is here for the indeterminably useful purpose of telling the world _why_ I had to torture its eyeballs with sap-trash as well as adding a bit of gratuity to the dry piece of angst I hope you have just read. Take warning, spoilers lie ahead.  
  
  
**EXTRA NO.1  
**THE SCENE THAT DIED  
It was a balmy autumn day, a Sunday, right after noon. The sun had just slipped behind a puffy row of cumulus clouds, and Sirius resented the laughs that were clearly audible from the grounds below him. Beside him, James gritted his teeth; apparently the same thought had just gone through both of their minds. The quills went on scratching over their parchments for a few minutes longer, then Sirius threw his down with a dismissive _hmph_.   
This is stupid.  
Hey, it could be worse, said James wearily, you could be helping Flitwick clean out his old bookshelves. He stretched. I'm hungry. Sirius's stomach gave a foreboding rumble. Me too, he replied, with some chagrin, as a trio of first-year girls giggled in a corner of the Common Room. Without further ado, the two left their mess of papers. I've got a couple bags of Many-Flavored Beans, said James as they ascended the stairs to the dormitory, and Chocolate Frogs. Your pick.  
How bout we just get all of it? Sirius rubbed at his belly. Too bloody busy today writing Sprouts' stupid paper. He grinned, clutching melodramatically at James's arm. Oh, the pain! If I write any more, mandrakes are going to sprout from my eyes! James gave a little chuckle and went to his trunk.   
  
The chocolate was a bit melted, but still much better than the Beans; James stuck a handful of dirt and grass into his mouth by mistake, thinking them chocolate and mint; Sirius, roaring with laughter at James's expression, then managed a combination of rotten apples and Brussels sprouts. Luckily, both had not left the empty dormitory for the exposure of the Common Room, and so only had the other laughing at them while they choked and dashed about looking for water. After that fiasco, Sirius immediately dug into the Frogs and shoved one with its eyes half melted into his mouth. It was still warm from sitting in James's trunk, and felt wonderful on his tongue. He sighed happily. James sat cross-legged across the pile of candies from Sirius and was busy unwrapping another Frog.   
_My god_, thought Sirius, brain still in a haze of pleasure from the sweetness, _Prongs is wonderful. _He closed his eyes. He could hear James mumble blissfully as he, too, let the chocolate dissolve.   
Things happened very fast after that. Suddenly Sirius was lying on his back on the deep rug, his hair rustling against its softness, and James, candy-breathed, was leaning down over him, warm, eager. Sirius said, still lost in the hot molten delight that coated the back of his throat and flowed silky into his stomach. James bent a few inches further and rested his cheek on Sirius's. His voice was as languid as the lukewarm sunshine that filtered in through a window in the deserted dormitory. Without warning, he shifted his face, skin faintly flushed, and pressed a kiss to Sirius's half-parted lips. They tasted the warmth of the intoxicatingly sweet mouth of the other; James's left hand somehow crept onto Sirius's nape while he greedily smoothed the other over and the same patch of jumper, apparently trying to find the edge of Sirius's clothes. The room was full of dust that twirled in the afternoon light and their small sounds.   
James had finally succeeded in his quest for the edge of the jumper and had only just burrowed tickling fingers under it and onto the skin underneath when the door of the dormitory opened. Both of them froze, all the melting ache of chocolate gone from them. Sirius tried to twist around under James's hands, both to struggle free and to see who had come in, but before he could do so, the door shut with a tiny bump and left them alone again in the room filled with amber light, motionless like insects suspended.   
  
Afterwards, James told him, whispering and looking entirely unlike himself with downcast face and shifty eyes, that the Frogs were meant for Lily. Sorry, mate, he muttered, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, didn't mean to--  
It's all right, said Sirius, as airily as he could.   



End file.
